Niruin's Business Plan
by Shannon Vega
Summary: Niruin has a plan to open a brothel. Brynjolf has some reservations. The Guild Master has other ideas. Inspired by a prompt on the Elder Scrolls kinkmeme. T just for discussions of prostitution.


Summary: Niruin wants to open a brothel. Inspired by a prompt on the Elder Scrolls kinkmeme site.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Skyrim and the Elder Scrolls games are owned by other people-people with lawyers and budgets and huge creative teams. This story is only for fun and I promise not to break the characters too, too much.

Author's Note: I know that I have been out of the writing loop for a while-and for anyone who still reads what I write, thank you. Feedback is welcome and constructive criticism is always welcome as well. Flames and flamers will be ignored and used solely for the purpose of heating my house.

_Original Pr__ompt: Don't know if anyone caught the conversation between Niruin and another Guild member, but basically he wants to open a brothel. The other guild member scoffs at this "business plan," saying Brynjolf would never agree to it. Well what if Brynjolf did agree to it? Would it be like Assassin's Creed, where the prostitutes and thieves have a special understanding? Would they team up at times? I just thought it was an interesting conversation and would like to see the idea explored._

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**Niruin's Business Plan**

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Brynjolf gaped at the Guild Master. "You think this is a good idea?"

Talia leaned back in her chair, looking up at the red-headed Nord. "Opening a brothel?" She nodded slowly. "Never understood why Riften didn't have one, to be honest. They're practically de riguer in the Empire," she admitted, glancing down at her fingernails. They were looking a little ragged, she thought as she dragged the needle-sharp point of her dagger under her nails. "Why? Does Skyrim frown on sex for money?"

Brynjolf felt the blush rising in his cheeks as he glared down at the petite woman sitting in Mercer's old chair. "I've never had to pay for it," he ground out.

Talia chuckled. "Sweetheart, we always pay for sex. Brothels just take the pretty veneer off. And, so long as certain rules are followed, I'll back it, Niruin," she added, finally turning her full attention to the elf.

Niruin frowned, arms crossed over his chest. "What rules?"

Talia sighed, standing and resting her fists on the desktop in a manner eerily reminiscent of Mercer Frey. "All the prostitutes interview with us both—need to make sure that our workers know what they're getting into. And, no," she glared at Niruin for a moment, "that doesn't mean that we fuck them for an audition, Niruin."

"Secondly, no violence allowed." She rose from her chair.

A look of disgust darted across her features and she picked up the dagger she'd left on the desktop. "Thirdly, no kids. I will personally gut anyone who wants to have sex with a kid." She emphasized her point by slamming the blade point-first into the wood of the desktop before she continued.

"Fourth, any man or woman does anything to make one of the prostitutes uncomfortable and they are banned, no questions asked and no second chances."

"And, finally," she allowed a grin to cross her lips, "the brothel works with us. No better source for intel than pillow talk, boys," she admitted. She thought for a moment. "Oh, and regular visits to Elgrin's Elixirs and the Temple of Mara. No diseases and regular potions to keep them from getting pregnant. And that, boys, will be on the Guild's dime." Straightening, she crossed her arms over her chest. "Can you live with that, Niruin?"

Niruin swallowed. "You're serious? Hells, yeah!"

Talia shook her head, smiling at his enthusiasm. "You'll need a house." Reaching into her pocket, she tugged out the key to Riftweald Manor. She tossed it to the startled elf. "Here. Needs a little cleaning up but I can't think of a nicer thing to happen to Mercer's old house than to turn it into a bawdy house."

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FIN

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